


A Totally Real D&D Campaign

by EchoesOfOmens



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Be Careful What You Wish For, Dragonborn (D&D), Dwarves, F/M, FRYING PAN OF SMITING, Halflings, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Profanity, Sarcasm, So Many Weapons, Stream of Consciousness, Super old humans, Tieflings, Timeline What Timeline, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, lots of screaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 11:37:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15533379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoesOfOmens/pseuds/EchoesOfOmens
Summary: This is mostly a joke fic based on the completely insane campaign I had with a group of friends who'd never played before. Our DM was literally the only one with experience other than me. I can't remember most of the dialogue we had, so I made it up to how they'd probably react in a condensed version of the story. All of the important plot points are included.Enjoy the madness that occurs when a bunch of noobs try out a super hard D&D campaign and troll the DM.The plot: A bunch of our characters take on an evil vampire overlord.





	1. Where's My Epic Background Music?!

**Author's Note:**

> _Our Cast:_  
>  Valeron (narrator): Triton barbarian, scholar, alchemist, collector of books for the library of Poseidon, knows like eight languages, probably smarter than you, sarcasm out the ass, is completely done with your shit, hates pretty much everyone except Prudove.  
> Prudove: Halfling rogue, Lightfoot clan, thief, orphan, likes shiny things, loves sneaking, is a sweet smol cinnamon roll, and is secretly a super-OP assassin.  
> Liam: human cleric, house of Hades, sucks at healing other party members, is a sarcastic lil shit, suuuuper old and wrinkly.  
> Daniel: Gold Dragonborn, fighter champion, kind of a ditz, tank, likes killing things because how else can he solve his problems??  
> Slothbarg: Green Dragonborn, druid, hoarder, annoying as fuck, never stops talking, alcoholic, main goal in life is to have a pet wolf.  
> Akara: blue tiefling paladin, super chill, actually amazing, surprisingly good at solving problems, peacekeeper, is probably secretly bent on world domination.  
> Anon (aka an unnamed Dwarf because Cameron is lazy): Dwarf ranger, the silent type, alcoholic, best feature is his epic beard, has a frying pan of smiting, surprisingly limber, likes pancakes.

The wind whistled though the trees, a soft song of spring that sent chills through my bones. It was new for me, meeting all of these strange new characters. I glanced around me at the creatures sitting in our wagon caravan, reflecting on how I'd gotten here. 

To my left sat Prudove, a tiny halfling thief I'd encountered upon my first breaching of the Surface. Of the Lightfoot clan, she taught me most of what I knew of the Surface. Perhaps it was foolish of me to trust such a dishonest character, but she was so cute that I felt an intense need to protect her. Unruly silver-blond curls were swept back into a bun, freckles splattered across her button nose, and intelligent blue eyes flashed as she bounced with the movement of the carriage. 

My golden eyes flashed to my right. Very clearly avoiding my gaze was Daniel (super creative name for a super creative guy), a Dragonborn warrior with a lack of common sense. I suspected Daniel was hit on the head as a hatchling, because his decisions thus far had gotten us nothing more than trouble. I gritted my fangs, not wanting to spend any longer with a ruffian such as he than was absolutely necessary. 

Across from me was a druidic Dragonborn that was having gender issues. Every fifteen minutes or so, _she_ would decide that she was a _he,_ or vice versa. (Some players aren't that great at roleplaying.) This Dragonborn was known as Slothbarg, and for whatever reason, was horrifically obsessed with wolves. I rolled my eyes as they kept ceaselessly chattering to the sky about getting a pet wolf for the next adventure. 

 

A big rumbling voice in the sky growled, "No. That would make you too OP." 

They kept needlessly talking nonetheless, in a voice that made my fins curl. Well, considering the two Dragonborns I'd met so far, I was not liking what I was seeing. Poseidon would have to hear about this.

I tried to ignore the Druid and instead opted to observe our healer, if you could call him that. He was technically a cleric, but every other adventure or so he'd change his patron. This time, he'd chosen Hades. 

Probably not the best choice he could've made. He was a rickety old man who looked like he was barely being held together with all of the bandages he wore; if I didn't know any better, I'd have thought he was a revenant back from the dead. 

At the front, driving the carriage, were the two who were the least strange out of the group. Akara, the tiefling paladin, and--actually I didn't know his name. He rarely spoke, only to offer solutions to puzzles or to relentlessly tease one or several members of the party. He was a dwarf ranger with red hair and a braided beard that reached his chest. Skilled with a bow and gifted with the Frying Pan of Smiting. (Possibly my favorite weapon that I'd ever seen of the Surface world.)

Both were interesting, to say the least. I probably got along with Akara the best, ironically. SHe was a blue-skinned demonic entity, and yet she had better manners than most of the present adventurers. 

Either way, we were on to bigger and better things. A scratching at my back reminded me of the loot from our last cave dungeon. I smiled and took off my pack, opening the top and peering inside. 

A bear. 

A _very small_ bear. 

We'd gone into a dungeon with a bunch of giants. I stole a golden plate that got me cursed by giants--long story--and I found an adult grizzly bear that had gotten shrunk to the size of a newborn. Prudove and I immediately began calling him Bucky, much to the chagrin of everyone else in the party. I saved him from an awful fate, and thus gained a companion. 

He grunted, blinking in the bright sunlight. Bucky was pretty chill, for a bear. I stroked his head fondly, letting the miles go by as we weaved through the countryside. 

I caught Slothbarg's eye. They were glaring at me, _again_. I could almost hear their previous words:  _Why does Valeron get a pet, if I can't?!_  

I almost wanted to snort.  _Because you're a noob who doesn't want to actually play by the rules._ I seemed to be the only one who understood how adventuring worked, which was saying something. Akara mostly stood by and offered damage when it was needed. Prudove had an obsession with hiding behind things (most often me) and taking out enemies with stealth attacks. Everyone had flaws, but our party seemed more dimwitted than most. 

Was I really the only one with a good head on my shoulders? I would've thought that Surfacedwellers would have a better idea of what was going on, but I was so very wrong. I mean, I was a freaking Triton, quite literally having no idea how to interact with these new customs, and somehow _I_ knew how to act more civilized than _these_ guys. And they said _I_ was a barbarian. (That was my class, but whatever, you probably know what I mean.)

 

"Hey, guys. We're almost here. Limber up." Akara called into the back of the wagon, her voice tired.

I grinned and cracked my knuckles. Finally, a fight. Something to do other than sitting around. I kissed the top of Bucky's head and safely stowed him back in my bag, readying my axe with a twirl.

Prudove glanced back at me, her smirk all-knowing.

 

"You could at least _act_ like you're not a murderer, you know." She snickered as I rolled my eyes. 

 

"I am a scholar and a champion of my people. I do not commit _murder_ , so to speak. I liberate heathens from their mortal coils." 

 

"Yeah, sure, whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night." Daniel snorted. "And _I'm_ the Champion, kiddo. You're just the barbarian in the skimpy armor." 

I glared at him and my fins flared in irritation. 

 

"Keep talking, Dragonborn. I'd love to add a new pair of golden horns to my collection." 

 

"Hey, if _anyone_ gets his horns, it's me! I'm the hoarder here!" Slothbarg added indiginantly.

 

"Guys--!"

Oh. Wow.

 

"I take it, we're here?" The sky had gotten dark and there was a full moon hanging in the sky. Dead trees expanded in a forest before us, blocking any chances we had of continuing with our wagon and horses. We'd have to continue on foot.  _Charming place._

 

"Mm-hmm." Akara slid down from the wagon, her eyes wide. "Welcome to Halloween-town, amiright?" 

 

"I do not understand that reference."

 

Prudove laughed. "All we're missing is some badass theme music!" She glanced around, "Too bad we don't have a bard. That would've been perfect." 

 

"I'm no bard, but I've got my Pipes of Haunting if you're interested." My eyes caught on something in the underbrush. "We've got company!" 

Four or five wolves leapt out of the darkness, their eyes glowing red and fur covered in mats. They circled us, bloodlust on their faces. 

Of course, Slothbarg had to open their big mouth. 

 

"Oooh! Wolves! I want to use Animal Handling!" 

Of course, that failed. They also tried to Tame them. Oops. 

That was taking far too long. In the time that they were preoccupied with _one_ , Daniel, Prudove, Akara and I dispatched the others with ease. 

 

"I fucking hate werewolves," I muttered under my breath. "Stop dealing nonlethal damage, already! If you won't finish it off, I will!"

Slothbarg pouted (huh, I didn't know green dragons could pout) and stomped off to the wagon with curses flung at the sky. The last wolf died with a grunt and they all dissolved into darkness. 

 

"See? They're not normal wolves. Get over it." 

 

"Damn, Val, I didn't know you could be so heartless." 

 

"When it comes to childish fantasies like having a _pet wolf_ , yes, I can be." I rolled my eyes and wiped the fur from my axe. "Akara, you said there was a reason we're here?"

She perked up at her name. 

 

"Yes! Apparently there's a vampire terrorizing the area. He keeps it in eternal night. This is, quite literally, a place where the sun doesn't shine." She snickered to herself and Daniel gave her a high-five. 

 

"I'm surrounded by idiots." I pinched the bridge of my nose, a disgusted sigh escaping my lips. "Let's head towards that windmill, hopefully there's someone who can point us towards the nearest town." 

Luckily, no one protested, and we began making our way towards the shape on the hill. 

As we got closer, though, I recognised a figure hanging from one of the rotor blades. A man was hung by the neck, gently swaying in the breeze. 

 

"Oh. That's inviting." Daniel elbowed the dwarf, who merely grunted. 

 

"Okay. Who's going first?" Prudove's voice wavered. (Heart of a lion, that one.)

I groaned.

 

"Fine, _I'll_ go knock! Bunch of fucking pansies..." 

The front door was unlocked. I peeked inside, and seeing no one, I opened it wider. Cobwebs were everywhere, a bunch of flour sacks lay forgotten in one corner, and there was a barrel sitting next to a locked chest. 

 

"Hey, Prudove! There's a locked chest here that needs picking." 

Everyone filed in, observing our surroundings. Liam (oh yeah, that's our cleric. Not any creative people around here) inspected the barrel curiously, his wrinkles multiplying as he squinted at it. 

He opened the lid and screamed. We all glanced over at him, but there was nothing there. 

 

"How are you all so calm!? There's a freaking chain demon in here!"

 

"Well... Your patron _is_ Hades." The dwarf commented. "Just talk it into sparing us. You've got the most Charisma."

 

"I... I uh... I convince it to become my brother." 

(Let me tell you, that was the most impressive nat 20 I'd ever seen. Good job, Liam.)

The voice in the sky rumbled, as though pissed at our cleric's charisma. "FINE! See if I care!" Well, that was that. We each got 20 gold from the chest, I got a few creepy spellbooks out of it, and Liam got a brother. (Damn, this game is weird.)

 

 


	2. This Is Why I Don't Socialize

We left the windmill with slightly heavier pockets and a newfound sense of foreboding. According to Liam's new brother (???) there really _was_ a vampire overlord that kept killing people. Heh, go figure.

We continued down the path towards the nearest village, a town that had a forgettable enough name that I couldn't bring myself to retain it. Something gloomy, no doubt. Either way, we found the inn and spent the night. Slothbarg talked to the ravens outside and found out that the werewolves came in waves, almost every night, like clockwork. It was the vampire's doing. He was mind-controlling them. 

 

"I don't want _any_ of you to kill the werewolves if we find them!" Slothbarg glared accusingly at the rest of us. 

I rolled my eyes. _Breh_. While sh-- _they_ were ranting, I took the time to admire our surroundings. The inn had a very raven-centric aesthetic, but it totally worked. Almost everything was made out of this lovely dark wood, and it was very complimentary to the acacia accents at the main bar. 

 

"That means you, too, Valeron!" 

I waved a hand dismissively. 

 

"Honey, if something comes at me, I'm _going_ to kill it. I'm not gonna die because _you're_ a furry." 

She sputtered furiously, but I didn't stay long enough to hear the rest of the conversation. I left the inn to explore the square. Towards the center there was a toy store, full of marionettes, music boxes, and other wooden creations. Akara seemed to notice the same place. 

 

_"That_ looks like fun," She mused. "After you." 

I grinned and led the way.

Inside, the theme consisted mostly of wolf-themed toys. Not the good kind, though. A music box depicted a hunter decapitating a wolf pack. Another had a wolf dying at the hands of a bear. 

 

"I'm sensing a lot of wolf-centric aggression, here." I laughed. "My sorta place." 

 

"Slothbarg is not going to be happy." 

 

"Hello, my friends! Like what you see?"

An older man smiled at us, his apron covered in wood shavings and dust. 

 

"Yeah, this stuff is great! A lot of cool pieces. The detail is incredible." I held up a stuffed bat. "How much for this little fella?"

 

"That? Go ahead and take it. My gift to you." He grabbed a bag and put it in, an amicable expression as Akara browsed the shop. "You're new. That demon got you, too?"

 

"The vamp? Ha, we're just passing through." I put the paper bag in my pack, a cocky grin on my face. "We'll get him off your back." 

He eyed us skeptically. 

 

"Are you monster hunters, then?" He circled me, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

 

"In a manner of speaking." Akara crossed her arms, her danger senses tingling. "Who we are doesn't matter. What _does_ matter is that we're leaving with that vampire's head." 

He nodded. 

 

"Very well. I should warn you, we get a lot of cocky young bucks thinking they can take him on. Just--be on your toes. He has eyes everywhere." He opened the door of his shop and we exited. "Try not to die, children." 

He shut the door behind us with a slam that was slightly harder than necessary. 

 

"Ew. Creepsville." Akara shuddered. "Let's get back to the others."

 

Slothbarg was under-the-table-drunk by the time we returned to the inn. They were maniacally giggling, trying to pet the carved banister as though it were a real bird. The dwarf was passed out on the counter, and Liam was talking to some random shifty man in a cloak about spices. Daniel had gone up to his room. 

 

"Ugh. I think I'm going to try to get some rest." I nodded in farewell at Akara before heading upstairs, my party's drunken songs echoing up into the night.

_Sweet Poseidon, how am I going to get any sleep with these morons around?_ I shook my head in disgust. People were hard to understand. _Especially_ Surfacedwellers.

I sat on my bed, dreaming of home as I slowly pet Bucky and fed him some rations. This was going to be a _long_ quest.

 


End file.
